


Now I've got you (and pizza too)

by orphan_account



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Mild Body Shaming, Oral Sex, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Danny likes to invite Frank over for fun movie nights. The flicks aren't very good, since they're not really movies at all, but Frank nonetheless enjoys the food and booze he gets out of it. Maybe a lot. Maybe too much, one might say, but that doesn't bother Danny at all.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Frank Morrison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Now I've got you (and pizza too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArtHistory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/gifts).



> hope you like it~
> 
> Danny and Frank are both interesting personalities so I hope y'all like my interpretation of 'em.

Frank knocks on the door with a lot of confidence, even though he's a little uneasy in this unfamiliar realm. You generally don’t try to find Danny. He finds you. So, it’s just strange that he was instructed to rendezvous at this strange, isolated location. An office building with maze-like halls, security cameras beeping and blinking at him as he stands there. 

Eventually, the door pulls open just a crack. Danny’s eye peeks through to make sure it’s just Frank, and when he confirms that, the door swings all the way open. “Franky!” He shouts with joy, but his facial expression doesn’t change at all. He just stares with a strangely empty look on his face, bags underlining his wide eyes. It’s kinda fuckin’ weird, to be honest! Frank definitely prefers Danny with his mask on, but it’s a bit weird to run around in full get-up outside of trials, so Frank just forces himself to untense his shoulders as he steps inside the security room.

“Make yourself comfy, buddy.” Danny says as he prances over to a pile of junk sitting on the counter.

“Yeah, I will.” Frank swallows hard and takes a seat in a rickety old office chair sitting by a console. The seat is stained with dirt and mud, probably ‘cuz Danny kicks his nasty ass boots up on it all the time. Danny flops down in the other chair, spinning around like a kid would for a few seconds before he scoots closer to Frank. Uncomfortably close. Like, their knees are touching. Frank pushes himself back an inch and Danny scoots an inch closer.

“So,” Danny starts, pausing to run his tongue over his chapped bottom lip. “Do ya wanna watch a movie? I made it myself.”

Frank nods, though he’s starting to regret coming here. He skipped out on prank night with Joey for this shit, so it better be good. “Yeah, bro, that’s why I came. Beats sitting around doin’ nothing.”

Danny doesn’t reply, however, because he’s too busy fiddling with a bunch of gadgets and wires. A camera’s hooked up to a strange rig of even stranger machines. It’s clear this room wasn’t meant for a movie night, but somehow, Danny manages to get an LCD screen above their heads to light up. A shaky video starts playing, the focus blurred and moving erratically, but eventually the camera settles on a table and a man tied to a chair comes into view. 

“Pizza?” Danny draws Frank’s attention away from the screen by prodding him in the shoulder. In his other hand, he holds a nondescript box filled with cold and presumably stale pizza. Frank, of course, doesn’t pass up the opportunity to eat some grub, even if it’s a little gross. This shit is hard to come by in the Entity’s realm. Paired with a bottle of garbage alcohol, Frank’s more than happy to sit through whatever shit Danny wants him to witness.

They turn their attention back to the video, which ends up just being a strange sequence of clips involving what is obviously Danny in different costumes modeled after some familiar ‘friends’ of theirs. As tacky as they are, Frank appreciates how crafty Danny must have been to put together such intricate outfits out of whatever junk they have laying around in the Entity’s realm. In typical Danny nature, though, the film quickly devolves into sadistic porn, which Frank finds hysterical. He’s shoving pizza into his face in between fits of laughter as he watches the myriad wacky torture methods that Danny had come up with. At one point, a Danny wearing a mask like the Trapper’s stomps on screen and just straight up punches the guy. It really shouldn’t be funny but Frank nearly chokes on a piece of pizza when he bursts out in laughter. Half of the appeal comes from just how stupid it is.

At some point, Frank notices Danny leaning forward in his seat, which distracts him from the movie. It’s only then that Frank realizes that Danny has been staring at him this entire time, which makes him self-conscious, which then makes him realize that the slice of pizza he’s holding in his hand is definitely not the same one he was given at the start. In fact, it suddenly occurs to him that, well, it’s beyond the fifth. His hand strays down to his bloated middle, which is pressing against his zipped up leather jacket. The fabric doesn’t visibly distend at all, but he definitely feels like a stuffed pig. Whatever, not like it matters that much, but he makes a mental note to slow down.

Danny giggles to himself as he stares down at a tiny screen on the console “Look at this, Frank.”

The video feed on the screen flickers, turns to static for a second, and then shutters until a new image appears. The survivors are standing around the fire. David and Jeff both have their shirts off, arguing about something while flexing their arms. It feels surreal to watch something so goofy, considering his only real interaction with survivors is him trying to murder them. David squeezes Jeff’s biceps and coos something too quiet to hear from the stalker cam. Jeff's muscles are definitely bigger than David’s, but they’re also coated in a layer of flab. His gut hangs down over his belt, David’s doesn’t, so David wins this competition. It’s that easy. Frank chuckles to himself. Fuckin’ fatass.

They watch the survivors fuck around for a while until it devolves into nothing and more nothing. He doesn’t drop out of his haze until an empty pizza box falls to the floor. Frank leans back in his chair and takes a long sip of the burning moonshine. There’s two empty boxes on the floor. He eyes them incredulously, as if a monster is going to crawl out of one. Nothing about them is unusual, but the sound of yet another box opening draws his eyes. His gaze stops on Danny, who happens to be happily chewing on another slice.

His eyes travel down a bit and Frank notices, with some level of disgust brewing in him, how Danny’s stomach is bulging out. The form-fitting jacket he has on strains against his gut, but more notable is how the fabric wraps around a pair of jutting love handles. That is definitely not a food baby. It's bona fide pudge. Frank’s stomach burbles nervously like it’s asking Frank if it’s okay to digest all the calories he just ingested, since that fat little belly is in his future if he keeps eating like this. He rubs an equally as nervous circle into his middle and takes another long sip of alcohol. It’s fine, he’s young, fast metabolism. Plus, it’s only this once, right?

Danny offers him another slice with an uncomfortably neutral expression.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Okay, so it wasn’t just once. It was like, a dozen times. A lot of times. And Danny kept bringing pizzas. Where the fuck is he getting all these pizzas from?!

And, yes… The worst had happened.

Frank is standing outside the door to Danny’s weird video room, from which the smell of moonshine wafts out in a cloud of miasma. That’s not what he’s thinking about, though. It’s the dollop of lard that’s settled on his once flat abs. He hefts it up and down, gripping it so hard his nails dig into his skin. His belly’s still small enough that he can easily grab the entirety of it with both hands, but it’s the fact of the matter, really. It’s getting hard to hide. He can’t zip up his jacket without the bottom of his gut bulging out precariously. The rest of the Legion commented on it. Joey fuckin’ flexed on him. How the hell is he supposed to feel good about this?

And yet, he still came here, knowing damn well what Danny’s gonna do.

“Are you jacking off out here?” The door creaks open and Danny peaks his head, giving a genuinely warm smile. Well, as genuine as Danny can get, that is. “You should’ve told me. I would have come to join you. Must be lonely out here.”

Frank pulls his shirt down tight, only really managing to highlight his gut by stretching the fabric over the curve of it, and kicks away from the wall. Danny emerges from his lair fully and stands before Frank. Well, more like stands above since he’s easily at least half a foot taller. Probably a lot more, but Frank wears some tall boots. Anyway, the more important thing is that Danny… If Frank looks like a little piggy, then Danny is the whole damn hog. That outfit of his is strained beyond belief, and even then, it already looks like it’s been let out a few times. It’s undeniable that Danny now has a sizable pot belly and some small moobs to match. His limbs are as taut and muscular as they always have been, so at least he has that going for him, but his five o’clock shadow can’t hide that developing double chin.

“You gonna say something? Come on, I know you got something clever.” Danny leers at him with his empty gaze, which of course makes Frank realize how long he’s just been… Studying Danny’s new body. Something goes off in his brain and he shoulders past Danny with a huff.

“Don’t be such a fuckin’ creep.” He snarls, though his intimidation tactics have the opposite effect, as Danny just laughs in a weird choked chuckle kind of way. “Was just tying my shoelace, man.”

“I wasn’t aware that tying your shoelaces involves playing with your belly fat.” Danny hums a coy tune as he starts fiddling with the computer switches. Frank, of course, does not take kindly to this. He knows better than to actually touch Danny, since he’s seen his bad side before, but he jabs a harsh finger in the Ghostface’s direction anyway.

“I wasn’t grabbin’ shit, bro.” Frank is not a good liar. Like, not as terrible as Susie, but it’s kind of comical how unsubtle he is sometimes. Now, Julie? She’s a fuckin’ con artist. It’s times like these he wishes he had her tact. “‘Sides, maybe you’re the one that should be worrying about ‘belly fat’, eh?”

Danny straightens his back and raises his eyebrows unnaturally high. “What ever do you mean?”

Despite having just reminded himself not to touch Danny, Frank reaches forward and yanks Danny’s coat open to reveal a bulging belly barely covered by a black undershirt. The bottom of his hairy gut spills out from under the tight shirt, showing off his deepening navel. Frank gives it a hard poke, sinking his finger into the wobbly fat, and laughs. “See what I mean? All that piggin’ out’s really done a number on ya.”

It must be a holy day, as a miracle has happened. Frank touched Danny against his will and is still alive somehow. Even more amazingly, Danny smiles. A positive reaction. Frank withdraws his hand in horror. Venomous animals are usually the prettiest, after all. Nothing happens, though, and then Danny gives his belly a smack and a jiggle, like it isn’t the most disgusting thing in the world. “You act like you’ve never put on a few pounds before.”

“That ain’t a few pounds, bud!” Frank recoils as Danny picks up a slice of pizza and starts eating mid-conversation. “Maybe put down the food, tubby.”

Danny smirks knowingly. “That’s rich, coming from you.” He sets his greasy meal down and steps forward, closing the distance between him and Frank. His hands slide under the fabric of Frank’s shirt, and yet, Frank doesn’t tear away. He just lets Danny rub his nasty little hands over the bulk of his flabby stomach. Frank feels a throng of embarrassment run through him as Danny plays with him, but not because he’s gotten fat. He’s embarrassed that he’s enjoying this right now and that in of itself is pretty fucking weird…

“Why don’t you sit down and enjoy the movie?” Danny says in the most suspicious tone possible. It doesn’t take a damn detective to know what’s gonna happen next, but Frank still goes along with it like nothing just happened. It’s such a nonchalant change of tone that Frank can’t help but accept it. He flops his ass down on an office chair and stares as Danny hooks up the cameras and plays live feed of various killers fucking around. Evan Macmillan steps in his own trap. The Hag eats some dirt. Typical shit, and Frank finds himself completely ignoring the movie to instead focus in on how Danny keeps givin’ him shit to eat. It’s crazy how he never noticed before. He ignores the rational part of his brain screaming out, instead opting to graciously scarf down whatever snacks Danny hands him, but the further on they go, the more and more frazzled he gets. He shouldn’t be enjoying how bloated he is, but he is enjoying it. The way he keeps shoving pizza down his throat, letting out wet burps with each swig of burning alcohol… No wonder he’s gotten fatter. He just lets Danny have his way.

“Bro, I can’t take it anymore.” Frank snaps, turning down the last slice of pizza, though he’s not sure if he’s referring to his stuffed stomach or the situation at large. Danny plays dumb and assumes it’s the latter.

“More for me then.” Danny smirks as he takes a big bite out of the greasy slice.

“Fuck, dude!” Frank moves to stand up, but just shifting in his seat causes his stomach to lurch in a volatile fashion. He settles for leaning forward, shoulders tensed. “I know what you’re doing. You just wanna see me fat, right? Didn’t even mean to gain weight yourself, just a side effect of your plan. Is it a sexual thing? Or do you just wanna make me look bad?”

Danny chews thoughtfully for a minute before nodding. “Yes to the first one.”

Honestly speaking, Frank has no idea how he should react. Like, he asked the question, yeah, but he wasn’t prepared for the answer… He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but before he can decide on the words, Danny pops the half-eaten slice of pizza into Frank’s mouth. By all means, he should spit it out and storm out dramatically, but no, he chews patiently and swallows hard. It lands in his stomach with a thud. 

“I know you like this.” Danny muses, staring over at all the empty packaging on the floor. “Turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“What?!” Frank snarls. He’s desperate to deny the truth, but the tent in his pants would betray anything he could say. So, wordlessly, he lets Danny tip that jug of alcohol to his lips and pour it in. He swallows obediently, closing his eyes until the stream of liquid stops. When Danny pulls the glass away, Frank taps his taut stomach with his fist and knocks loose a burp that rattles for at least a half dozen seconds. Danny, of course, does his signature snicker as he observes the situation. Maybe that’s what’s so unnerving about him, he’s always just observing, watching, taking mental notes, documenting things in the filing cabinet of his mind, but maybe that’s why Frank… likes this. Ugh, it feels gross to admit, but Danny’s the only reason he’s kept coming back. It’s why he pretended not to notice he was getting fat until now.

Then Danny’s hands are on him again. He wraps his legs around Frank’s, his boots hitting the wheels on the chair. It slides back and hits the wall at the same time that Danny’s lips hit Frank’s. The taste of alcohol, pepperoni, and foreign spit. Oh, it’s so delicious, but he wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t Danny. The cool air hits him as Danny tears off his jacket and shirt. He shivers when Danny reaches down and grabs a handful of Frank’s doughy middle, hefts it up and down and sends it jiggling like mad. Then Frank unbuttons his pants and their guts press together. Their erections, similarly, press together and rub until Frank’s underwear is stained with precum.

“Fuck,” Frank groans as he paws at the side of his distended stomach. The way Danny’s grinding against him feels so damn good and it shakes the chair enough that it disturbs his burbling belly. Danny slides his hand under Frank’s and takes over on belly rub duty, smiling to himself as he feels Frank’s churning stomach under his fingertips.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Danny confesses, though it comes as no surprise. That revelation train passed a long time ago, and now, all Frank cares about is continuing, going further, digging deeper into this new fetish. Frank, of course, then frees his boner and strokes his cock a bit while Danny does the same. Their dicks press together skin-to-skin, which sends a small shock of envy into Frank’s cloudy mind as he realizes that Danny’s cock is significantly bigger than his. Jealousy turns to attraction fairly quickly, though.

“Get off me for a sec.” Frank says. Danny complies, liking where this is heading, and Franks slides himself off the chair and onto the floor at Danny’s feet. His gut sags down as he sits at perfect cock-sucking height. Danny’s cock throbs and dribbles a glob of precum as he observes Frank’s bare body from this new angle. It’s everything he had hoped it would be, maybe better. Frank is happy to indulge this weirdo.

It’s obvious from the way Danny’s fingers twitch that Frank shouldn’t leave him hanging much longer. He gets to work pleasuring the older man, wrapping his mouth around Danny’s stiff member and doing his best to slick his tongue over it. His lack of experience shows, but that’s part of the appeal, in a way. The corruption of a naive man. At least, that’s what Frank assumes. The inner machinations of Danny’s mind are an enigma, but his body is as human as anyone else’s and it responds wonderfully to him.

It doesn’t take much effort to get Danny shaking and thrusting in desperation. After all, it’s been a long month of foreplay leading up to this moment, so neither of them feel bad when they cum within a minute or two of Frank sucking Danny’s dick while jacking off himself off. Despite his stomach’s suspicious gurgling, Frank eagerly swallows down Danny’s entire load, enjoying how the cum slicks his throat. Frank, of course, just cums into his hand and subsequently the floor. He wipes the cum off on his pants and groans as Danny pulls him up off the ground and into his arms, pressing Frank's face into his broad yet soft chest. It’s an incredibly rare expression of affection, probably not as simple as it seems, but Frank decides not to ruin his post-nut bliss by overthinking things.

“Fuck.” Frank reiterates. He feels a rumble reverberate inside Danny’s chest, something akin to a murmur of agreement. His body is slack and tense and slack and tense as the waves of hormones crash over and over until there’s nothing left in his bloodstream.

“This time again tomorrow?” Danny says it as a question, but they both already know the answer.

“Fuck yeah."


End file.
